Flowers
by Daylily Gold
Summary: What might Jack have been thinking on the boat, if he was thinking coherently at all? (slight slash)


//Well, everybody has an idea as to what might have happened on the boat.  Here's my idea.

Lord of the Flies is not mine, nor will it ever be.  There's slight slash and a bit of violence in this very brief tale.  Nothing to write home about, I don't think.//

**Flowers**

The waves rolled on.  Nothing would ever stop them, not until the end of time.  They would roll on when everyone was dead, when all traces of their steps on the island were gone, and maybe- just maybe- they would one day erase all traces of the island itself and drown it.

He wasn't sure if he wanted that.  If it was all gone, who would remember who had died- _no, say it right_- who had been killed there?

There were footsteps on the deck behind him.  There was silence.  He waited; not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

"They want to throw flowers overboard."

He felt a strange smile, a smile that was trying to be a scream and a sob all at once, twist his face and he remained staring out at the water to hide it.  "And I'm sure that will help."

The water went on forever.  It slapped up against the boat and he wished he could be rid of this sin by throwing himself in.  Baptism.  Cleansing.

Flowers in the water.  What good would they do?

"I thought you might want to toss a few."

He whirled around like he had been jabbed in the back when he had known he was all alone.  "I might want to?  Why would I want to do that?"

He stared into gray blue eyes that looked too much like the ocean around them.  Silent, comfortless, forever.  "To say sorry.  To show some kind of feeling."

"I don't feel anything," he said, and he thought it was true.  He had died on the island.  Of course he had.  He had been the one to be killed.  Blood on his hands, but it was only his own.  He was a walking corpse.

_Please, please, let me die.  Let me be clean one more time._

He wasn't ready for the punch, and he fell back against the railing, feeling tears spring up in his eyes.  But that wasn't right; he couldn't cry.  He wasn't allowed to cry.  It was all his fault and he had to bear that poison and he didn't deserve the comfort of tears.

_Please, please, let me die._

"You were going to kill me."  The voice was quiet, toneless.  He wanted to take a hold of it and wring some kind of feeling out of it_.  You're not dead.  I am.  You're still alive, so be alive.  Cry, scream, hit, do something.  You're alive._

"Yes," he said softly, and felt something cold and brittle inside of him break.  _You're alive.  I never knew how much I wanted that._

_Please, please._

He looked up and those eyes were finally shining with tears.  Salt, like the ocean.  _Please.  Let me drown in those tears, let me be clean again._

_I can't cry.  Will you cry for me, even though I would have killed you, once upon a time?_

"How?"

He looked down at his hands and wondered if anyone knew he could see the blood there.  "You chose him over me."

Silence.  

_Nothing to say to that, eh?__  Not your fault, no, that's not what I meant._

"I hated you," he said helplessly, the words spilling out finally, each falling out into the ocean and cleansing themselves of his voice.  "You were chosen over me, and then you chose everyone else over me.  You.  I wanted-"

He couldn't say anything more.  Was there anything else to say?

"I hate you."

_I know._

"I will never forgive you."

_I know, but..._

"You hate yourself as much as you hate me," he said, feeling that terrible not-smile blossom on his face again.  Bloated, rotting flower on an ocean of blood.  "It was your fault, too, wasn't it?"

_I wanted you to like me best, but I'll be happy if you hate me most._

_I want to be first, just once, for you._

The tears fell and it was a baptism.  He wanted to reach up and touch them, but he knew their owner would retreat from him.  He said softly, "Who do you hate more, then, Ralph?  Me, or your own self?"

_You never chose me.  I was always last; you were always first._

He listened to the footsteps fade away, and stood to stare at the sea again.  When the flowers floated by, he swallowed his tears and watched them until the ocean took them away.

//Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it.//


End file.
